Gardiner stood up from the front seat of the audience. “I am his——” he managed to say, but was instantly silenced.
“That will do,” said the judge; “an order will——”
At this moment a commotion was heard among the crowd who had not been able to gain admittance, and all eyes were turned toward the door. In another instant a young man, flushed, dishevelled and mud-bespattered, forced his way into the room, glanced about the interior for an instant to get his bearings, and walked straight to the prisoner’s box where Bill Hagan, the town constable, now promoted to the position of a court official, stood with as much dignity as his years spent in leaning over a bar made possible.
“Well, Bill, were you waiting for me?” was the question he addressed the constable.
It was not until they heard him speak that the crowd seemed to realise that Raymond Burton in the flesh stood in the prisoner’s box. When they grasped that fact an huzzah broke out from a few enthusiasts, which was immediately seized by others and grew in volume until it threatened to raise the roof.
Order was quickly restored, when the judge scolded the people soundly, threatening that he would have the court room cleared if there were any further demonstrations.
Then turning to Burton he asked, “Are you the Raymond Burton named in the indictment?”
“I did not hear the indictment, my lord, but I am Raymond Burton.”
“You have,” continued the judge, “by your absence delayed the operation of this Court and the machinery of justice. I may say to you frankly, that I was given to understand that you had evaded the police and would not appear for trial, and at the moment of your entry I was about to make an order distraining the bail given for your appearance. Can you give an explanation of your conduct?”
“I can, my lord. I was in the West, where I intended to enter for a homestead. I was, in fact, in line before the door of the Land Office when I discovered that if I were to reach Plainville in time for my trial I must leave at once. I would have been here early this morning if my train had come through on time, but a bridge was burned out last night, and we were delayed. I walked fourteen miles along the track, when a friend provided me with an automobile, but the roads were so bad, and we had a number of mishaps, that I have only now reached the town. I am very sorry, my lord, that you have been delayed.”